


Accessory

by SoujiSeta



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Accomplice End, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-20
Updated: 2013-08-20
Packaged: 2017-12-24 02:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/933991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoujiSeta/pseuds/SoujiSeta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji confronts the man he's most reluctant to suspect on his final day in Inaba. </p><p>Accomplice End spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accessory

Souji tenses as the detective’s lips close over his, the lack of space between them an unwelcome shock.

“Don’t look at me like that, Sou-chan. It’s what you wanted, right? You spent half your fucking time trying to impress me — making me dinner and all, you fucking creamed yourself over the chance to play house with me, pretend you were my goddamn wife. Kissing up to an adult like that… You shouldn’t be surprised if they get the wrong idea, y’know?” Adachi pauses to chuckle and Souji averts his gaze from the other man’s face.

“I’m not the only one. Dojima ended up wanting to fuck you at least as much as you wanted to fuck me, after awhile.” Souji shook his head and screwed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to shut up Adachi, who waits a beat before, “Oh. Really, you didn’t notice? He was painfully obvious about it, actually. I think you reminded him of that dead wife of his, and you look like his sister, to boot.”

 Adachi pauses to buff his nails on his suit jacket, casually. 

“Huh. I guess being the top of your class doesn’t actually mean anything.”

Souji sucks in a breath and forces himself to stare, fathomless into Adachi’s face for a long moment, though his thoughts are a chaotic mess. 

A swell of raw emotion threatens to break his stoic façade then and the detective isn’t helping much, with his words — with the ashes of their correspondence smoldering on the table and his grasping a lighter in one clammy hand, and he feels sick.

Adachi takes a step toward him and lifts one hand, slips two slender fingers through a belt loop and pinches the waistband of Souji’s pants under his thumb, unaccounted-for digits barely brushing the top of his back pocket, and he drops the lighter with a small gasp. Adachi chuckles and then goes on talking as though nothing had happened, even as his other hand cups Souji’s cheek and, despite himself, Souji makes no effort to stop him.

“And here I thought you were actually pretty smart, for a teenager.” Adachi sighs and draws his thumb down over Souji’s lips, which part slightly as he exhales and he clenches his fists, hard, nails pressing bold white crescents to his palm. 

“Geeze, you’re just begging for it! You’d flash that same kicked puppy look at me whenever you caught me on my way home from work and I didn’t have the time to come by for dinner, it was almost painful to watch. If I’d offered, I bet you would’ve just abandoned Nanako for a night and gone home with me without a second thought, huh?”

Souji knows that at one time, he’d pitied this man more than his young cousin, but there was more to it than that, and he bites his lip with the force of the realization that Adachi’s completely right. Adachi seems to know, too, and the hand on his face slides around to the back of his neck and nails dig into the stem of his spine.

“You goddamn slut,” he whispers, a strained note in his voice that hadn’t been there before. “Did you think you could fix me?” It’s clearly rhetorical, but Adachi stops talking and stares somewhat blankly at Souji, like he’s not really seeing him, and he’s almost tempted to say something in response, but doesn’t. When the glazed-over quality of Adachi’s gaze disappears, it’s replaced by a sharp, hungry one.

The hand at his waist disentangles itself and kneads Souji’s ass through his jeans, and the other plants itself in Souji’s hair and wrenches him forward and their lips smash together gracelessly.

Before Souji can protest, Adachi steers him backward, guides him blind until the back of his knees are pushed against the cot in the corner of the room. Adachi kisses him aggressively, their teeth clacking together and tongues getting caught between ivory. It’s messy and a little painful but Souji can’t bring himself to push him away, not because Adachi is stronger than him, but because he honestly doesn’t want him to stop.

Adachi smirks against Souji’s lips as Souji kisses him back in earnest, and then pushes him backward. The teenager loses his balance and falls into a spread-eagled sitting position on top of the sheets with Adachi leaning over him, a mirthless smile on his face.

“I fucking knew it.” he murmurs, his appraising gaze sweeping over Souji’s mussed hair and narrowed eyes, his wet, pouting lips and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Adachi laughs and puts a hand to Souji’s thigh, his touch almost a caress through the fabric of his uniform slacks, and Souji’s breath hitches.

“You always seemed to think that you disguised your emotions so well, too. I almost hate to break it to you — you’re just as transparent as that Hanamura boy you’re always palling around with, partner.” Souji doesn’t have time to respond, between feeling like all the air’s been forced from his lungs and Adachi on him again, suddenly, straddling Souji on his knees, sideways on the cot and pushing Souji’s back against the wall. Adachi’s hands are at his throat, and Souji’s are on the older man’s hips as he turns his face up, skull pressed uncomfortably hard to the wall as they kiss each other fiercely enough for their lips to bleed.

Adachi lets his hands fall and scrapes his teeth over Souji’s bottom lip as he retreats, stands up and brushes Souji’s hands off him. Souji stares at him, mouth agape, breathing hard, as Adachi grins at him innocuously.

“I should really be getting back to work, Souji. I don’t have time to entertain kids on the job. And shouldn’t you be at home, packing?”

Souji says nothing and Adachi shrugs, turns on his heel, picks up the lighter from the floor and pockets it. He straightens his suit out until it’s only as disheveled as he normally wears it, and Souji stands up as Adachi waves without looking back and takes a step toward the door.

“Wait!” Souji pleads, sounding much more panicked than he’d intended. Adachi pauses and glances at Souji over his shoulder, his expression mild. “After that, you’re…”

“Today is your last day in Inaba, right? I wouldn’t dream of letting you go without a proper sendoff. See you tonight, partner.”

With that, Adachi opens the door and walks off down the hall, leaving Souji alone. He licks his lips and tastes the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, falls back onto the edge of the cot, and stares at his shoes.


End file.
